The Hunt for Dark Infinity 1r-2

by James Dashner

  Darkness had crept into the forest, more and more insects revealing their presence in a growing chorus of mating calls. Paul sat with his arms folded, leaning against a nearby tree, his face set in a grimace. Sofia was curled up in a ball several feet to Paul’s right, still moaning, leaves sticking to her clothes as if she’d been rolling around in them since morning. The strange devices Mr. Chu had attached to them were gone.

  Surprisingly, Tick felt the pain sliding away, feeling better by the second. Pushing against the ground, he got his feet under him and stood up. Though sore, he no longer felt the pinpricks and bruises he’d suffered from just moments earlier. It was as if someone had injected him with two shots of morphine.

  “Dude, what happened? ” Paul said through a groan, stretching his arms out before him.

  Tick stepped over to Sofia, who seemed to be regaining her strength as well. She rolled onto her back, blinked up at Tick, then held up an arm; Tick helped her to her feet.

  “Is that guy still your favorite teacher?” she asked, brushing leaves off her clothes. “He’s a real joy to be around, that’s for sure.”

  “I… I don’t know what-” Tick stopped in mid-sentence, staring at something over Sofia’s shoulder. He squinted to see through the dim twilight, then squeezed his eyes shut and opened them again. “What the heck is that? ”

  “What?” Sofia and Paul asked in unison, turning to look in the same direction as Tick.

  Without answering, Tick walked toward the oddity that loomed over them just a few dozen feet away.

  “Whoa,” he heard Paul say from behind him.

  Deeper into the forest, several trees had melted into a twisting, gnarled, monstrous-looking mass of wood that was as tall and thick as a house. Several other trees had been lifted out of the ground, their roots sticking out like naked fingers, clods of dirt swaying back and forth. Tick could only stare, disbelieving his own eyes. It looked like some giant magician had grabbed dozens of trees, transformed them into liquid wood, and then smashed them together, twisting and squeezing all of it into a deformed, hideous shape.

  Sofia gasped, then pointed to a section of the wood-blob near the ground. “Is that what I think it is? Oh!” She covered her face with her hands and turned around, her body visibly shuddering.

  “What?” Paul asked, stepping closer to take a look. Tick joined him, and immediately saw the source of her disgust.

  Somehow twisted into the wood was the body of a deer. Three legs poked out of the main trunk; its face was half-sunk into the wood, the one visible eye somehow displaying the fear it must have felt at the last second before death.

  “That’s downright creepy,” Paul whispered.

  By the time they reached Tick’s house, almost all of the intense pain they’d felt had disappeared, leaving only a weary soreness. Tick, like Paul and Sofia, had hardly said a word on the walk back, trying to figure out which had been more disturbing-the agonizing pain or the deformed super-tree with the dead deer sticking out of it.

  “Could this day have been any weirder?” Paul asked as they walked up the porch steps to Tick’s house.

  “Maybe if we’d grown bunny ears,” Sofia replied.

  Paul let out a bitter laugh.

  They walked in to the wonderful smells of dinner, all of them pausing to take a deep breath. Tick was starving. He couldn’t tell what his mom had cooked, but he had a feeling she’d felt the need to prove to Sofia that she could cook, too.

  “So are we gonna tell your parents what just happened?” Paul whispered.

  Tick thought a minute. “Maybe later. My poor mom’s worried enough as it is. No harm, no foul, right?”

  “Yeah,” Sofia agreed. “Let’s just stay in the house and stare at each other until it’s time to go meet Master George.”

  “Sounds good,” Tick said. “Hopefully we can stay out of trouble for one more day.”

  They walked into the kitchen.

  Mistress Jane felt discouraged.

  She sat next to the large stone window of her apartment in the Lemon Fortress, closing her eyes every time the soft, warm breeze filled with the sweet smell of wildflowers blew up from the meadows below. The day was beautiful, the slightest hint in the air that autumn lay just around the corner. Everything was perfect.

  And yet, a stinging sadness tempered all of it.

  It had been four months since her Barrier Wand had been stolen, trapping her inside the Thirteenth Reality. At the time, she’d been so intrigued by the Realitants’ ability to wink away with a broken Wand, and its potential implications for her, that she’d gotten straight to work-studying, experimenting, building. There was a lot about the mysterious power of Chi’karda she’d not yet discovered, and the little group’s seemingly miraculous disappearance had led her to change her thinking. She had already made some exciting discoveries.

  However, at the moment, she was very frustrated.

  For one thing, her efforts to build a new Barrier Wand had hit a major snag. Frazier Gunn, the leader on the project, couldn’t find one of the key elements for the wire that would transmit the Chi’karda from its Drive packet to the body of the Wand. The needed material was a complicated alloy of several rare metals, and one of them was proving impossible to find within the Thirteenth. Frazier had grown noticeably irritable, obviously realizing the potential consequences if he failed in this project. His room for error with Jane had grown very thin.

  But all of this was secondary to what troubled her most.

  She was starting to feel guilty.

  She couldn’t remember when it started, or when it had grown to such a staggering weight on her heart. But now, every minute of the day, all she could think about was how evil she had become. When had it come to this? How had it come to this? In the beginning, all she’d ever wanted was to make the world a better place, to improve life for all her fellow human beings. It was to fulfill those lofty and noble goals that she’d joined the Realitants years ago, devoting her life to studying the Realities. Though she’d never voiced her intentions, she’d planned from the first day to seek out those things in other Realities that would lead to her ultimate goal.

  A Utopia. A perfect world. A haven for all people, where pain and sorrow would cease to exist. Where everyone could be happy.

  That was all she’d wanted. That was all she still wanted.

  And yet, here she was, a fierce and cruel ruler of an entire world, using its mutated powers to create horrific armies of creatures, to repress those who opposed her, to destroy those who dared to fight back. She was a despicable, disgusting person. A terribly unhappy person.

  But she couldn’t change. Not now. She knew that as clearly as she’d recognized what she had become. It was too late for change. Her plans were in full motion, and if it took her full cruelty and reprehensible reputation to win the battle, then so be it.

  She realized what that meant. She was willing to sacrifice her own dignity, her own reputation, her own… soul. In the end, though, the worlds would thank her. In the end, everyone would be better off. In the end, life would be perfect.

  She looked to her right just in time to see her latest servant-girl, Doofus, stumble through the door and drop a tray, dishes clattering all over the floor.

  The timing couldn’t have been worse. Jane’s mood couldn’t have been worse.

  She threw her hand forward, unleashing a burst of the mutated Chi’karda. Doofus shot into the air and slammed high against the stone wall, pinned near the ceiling by the invisible force. Choking sounds filled the room as the poor girl kicked at the air, her heels thumping the wall.

  “How dare you enter without knocking, you pathetic slob.” Jane’s voice remained calm and cool, belying the rage and guilt she felt within. With a quick wave of her hand, she made Doofus spring away from the wall and fly across the room. Screams burst from the girl’s throat as the chokehold was released. They quickly faded when the servant shot through the open window and plummeted toward her death far below.

&nb
sp; “I’m tired of coming up with names for these people,” Jane grumbled to herself.

  She stood up, took one last look at the beauty of her fortress grounds, then went back to work. There was much to be done.

  Chapter 9

  A Major Rule Violation

  On the morning of August 22, Tick and his friends barely said a word during breakfast with his family, scared to death that somehow they’d slip up and say something about the incident in the forest. They were having enough trouble already with his mom-she kept insisting Dad should go with them, that they should demand Master George allow Edgar to be a Realitant or they would all quit.

  Tick hated seeing how much his mom worried. She’d never looked so distressed and unhappy. Seeing his mom sobbing uncontrollably was just about enough to rip Tick’s heart into two pieces. But he knew they had no choice, and he also knew his dad would figure out a way to console her after they were gone.

  Luckily, Dad was firmly on their side, though he, too, often failed to hide the worries and concerns inflicted on his own heart.

  After stuffing food and clothes into their backpacks, and after a terribly tearful good-bye with Tick’s family, the three Realitants set off for the cemetery near the town square of Deer Park. Tick thought it was a little surreal, like his parents had packed him off to summer camp instead of to another reality.

  “Man, your mom really loves you, dude,” Paul said, adjusting his backpack.

  “Yeah, I guess,” Tick replied.

  “You guess? ” Sofia said. “My parents are just glad to get me out of the house. ‘Yes, sweetie, run along to your adventures. Don’t forget to brush your teeth!’”

  Paul kicked a loose rock on the road. “You know my strategy-ask for forgiveness when I get back.”

  Tick didn’t respond, unable to get the look on his mom’s face out of his head.

  They walked in silence the rest of the way to the cemetery.

  “So good to see you!” George said for the hundredth time that morning. He reached out to shake the hand of William Schmidt, an old man from the Third Reality who Sato thought looked like someone three steps from death’s door. Sato stifled a yawn, wondering why George always made him do stuff like this with him.

  They stood at the entrance to the large assembly hall, a wide auditorium cut into the stone with a stage in the front and a tinted window at the back overlooking the Grand Canyon. Sato knew they’d somehow camouflaged the windows in the complex, but it still seemed like a foolish thing. He could only imagine the news explosion that would happen if they were discovered.

  The Big Meeting wasn’t scheduled to begin for another ninety minutes, but the Realitants had been pouring in for hours, wanting to meet and greet and speculate. Sato had never met such strange and diverse people in all his life, and couldn’t help but feel amazed at the sheer effort of maintaining such an organization.

  A slender woman with flaming red hair entered the assembly hall next, enough makeup on her face to hide a dozen boils. She smiled as George shook her hand, then focused on Sato, nodding her head.

  “Is this one of the new recruits?” she asked, her high voice filled with a creepy sweetness.

  “Why, yes, yes, he is,” George replied, his voice loud and prideful. “Young Sato here has proven himself quite valuable in the last few months. A real worker, eh, Sato?”

  Sato shook the lady’s hand. “Nice to meet you.” He wanted to add, Would you mind killing me, please? I’m bored.

  “My name is Priscilla Persephone,” the redhead replied in her slightly disturbing, shrill voice. “I’ve heard great things about your mission to obtain Mistress Jane’s Barrier Wand. Good to know Master George can trust such… important duties to someone so young, instead of depending on veterans like myself.”

  Priscilla gave George a hard stare, then walked off to grab a glass of orange juice and a pastry.

  George mumbled something under his breath; it sounded like he’d used the words ugly hag and yapping dog.

  “What did you say?” Sato asked.

  George waved at the air. “Oh, nothing, Master Sato, nothing at all.”

  The next person George greeted was a younger, much prettier woman named Nancy Zeppelin. Her golden hair and brilliant blue eyes made her look like she’d just stepped off a Paris fashion runway. Sato didn’t realize he was staring until George nudged him with an elbow.

  “Oh, um, my name is Sato,” he said, feeling his face grow warm.

  “Nice to meet you. Congratulations on joining the-”

  Before she could finish, Rutger rushed into the auditorium, yelling George’s name, waddling like a fat duck trying to catch its ducklings before they crossed a busy road.

  “Goodness gracious me,” George said, trying to calm the short man. “What is it, Rutger?”

  Rutger spoke in short bursts, sucking in gasps of air between words. “Tick… and the others… their nanolocators… everything seems normal… at the cemetery… but it won’t work …”

  George reached down and grasped Rutger by the shoulders. “Take a deep breath, man, then explain yourself.”

  Rutger did as he was told, closing his eyes briefly before opening them again. But when he spoke, it came out just like before. “I don’t understand… all their readings… normal… no malfunctions, no blips… but the Wand won’t wink them in. They’re standing there… waiting! It won’t work!”

  George tapped his lips, looking down at Sato then at the mingling Realitants gathered in the assembly hall. His eyes seemed afire with concern. “Oh, dear.”

  “What’s going on?” Sato asked.

  “Unfortunately, I think I know exactly what’s going on.” George started walking toward the stage, his steps brisk.

  Sato looked down at Rutger. “Do you?”

  Rutger shook his head, his face so lined and creased that Sato worried he’d drop dead of a heart attack. He was about to say something when George’s voice boomed across the room, echoing off the walls. Sato turned to see George standing at a microphone on the stage.

  “My fellow Realitants,” he announced. “This meeting must start immediately. Please, find anyone lingering in the halls, bring them here, and take your seats.”

  “What’s wrong?” someone yelled from the audience.

  George paused before answering. “We’ve had a violation of Rule Number 462.”

  Tick fidgeted, rocking back and forth on his feet, wiping his sweaty hands on his pants. Sofia stood to his left, Paul to his right. The sun made its way toward the top of the sky, beating down on the cemetery with a ruthless heat. Tick hoped Master George would wink them away to a nice, cool place; he couldn’t wait to tell him about the bizarre incident in the woods with Mr. Chu. They’d seen no sign of him since, and several calls to the school had only hit the answering machine.

  “Come on, already,” Paul muttered, looking up at the cloudless blue sky as if he expected Master George to float down in a balloon and pick them up. He cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted to the air, “Yo! We’re ready! Wink us, man!”

  “Maybe he will once you quit acting like an idiot,” Sofia said.

  “At least I’m acting, ” Paul replied.

  Sofia pulled back to punch him for his troubles when the screeching sound of a car slamming on its brakes in front of the cemetery entrance made them look in that direction. Tick’s heart skipped a beat when he realized it was his mom. She was already out the door and past the stone archway, running at full speed.

  “Mom!” Tick yelled. “What are you doing?”

  “Atticus, don’t leave yet!” she said, looking ridiculous as her arms pumped back and forth. Tick realized that he’d never, not once, seen his mother run before.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked, lowering his voice now that she’d almost reached them, only twenty feet away.

  “I have to tell you something-I have to tell you before you go.” She slowed, then stopped, sucking in air. “It’s very important.”

  Tick was
so relieved she wasn’t going to prevent him from leaving, he failed to realize how odd it was that she’d raced here to tell him

  … what?

  “You okay?” he asked. “What is it?”

  Having regained her breath, she began talking. “I should’ve told you this years ago-at the least, I should’ve told you four months ago. I-”

  But Tick didn’t hear the rest of her sentence. Instead, in that instant, he and his friends were winked away to a very strange place.

  Chapter 10

  A Very Strange Place

  Tick got his wish in one regard-the place was cold. Beyond that, he couldn’t find one positive thing about it.

  They stood on a cracked stone road, small pools of stagnant water filling the gaps. The smoggy air reeked of things burnt-oil, rubber, tar. Metal structures lined the long street on both sides, towering over them, black and dirty. Tick first thought they were buildings of some kind, but that notion quickly evaporated. They were more like sculptures, the dark and twisted vision of some maniac artist.

  “Man,” Paul whispered, “it’s like Gotham City.”

  In some spots, wide, arching pieces rose fifty feet in the air, ending in a jagged, ripped edge as if some enormous monster had ripped the top off with its teeth. In other places, huge, towering cylinders-some taller than New York City skyscrapers-ascended to the sky until they disappeared into the menacing, storm-heavy clouds. Squat, deformed lumps sat in the nooks and crannies, like weathered statues of ancient Greek gods. Hideous carvings of animals, worse than the ugliest gargoyle Tick had ever seen balancing on the outer walls of a cathedral, lay strewn about like stray dogs, frozen in place by a rainstorm of molten metal. Random triangles and pentagons hung oddly from various structures, seeming to defy the laws of physics.